Okay, this is kind of gross, BUT… if Dean is particularly stuffy, he MIGHT ask me to help him with his boogies.

He is only 4, and while he understands the concept of blowing his nose, he doesn’t usually blow it hard enough for it to do any good.  So yesterday I wasn’t all that surprised when he came to me.

But let’s back up a bit… About five minutes before he walked over to me, Dean asked me if he could have two Oreos.  I said sure and handed them to him.

Five minutes later, here comes Dean.

“Mama?!” He comes over to me and pats my leg to get my attention.

I looked down at my little guy and smiled, “What, sweetie?”

I figured he was going to ask for some more Oreos.

“Mama, you help me?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“You get my…” And I thought he said boogies, so I turned to get a napkin, but wait.

“What?  What did you say?”

“Mama, you get my cookie.”

“No, Dean. You had two cookies. That’s enough.”

“No, mama.  Get the cookie in my nose.” And he is pointing to his nostril.

“What?” I bent down to look, and, sure enough, I can see what looks and smells like chocolate right under his nose.  I brought him over to the French Door, so I could see in the sunlight… Yep, think there is cookie up there.

“Dean, what did you do?” I admit it… I’m trying not to laugh.

“I put a cookie in my nose.”  For some reason, Dean is really proud of this.

“Come on.” I take his hand and go into the office so that I can get the flashlight and a second opinion.  ”Roy, your son put an Oreo in his nose.”

Roy swung his chair to look at me, “What did you just say?”

“I said, ‘Your son, put a cookie up his nose.’”

“I put a cookie in my nose.” Dean reiterated.

Roy shook his head and beckoned Dean over. He picked Dean up and laid him across his lap. I handed him the flashlight.

“Yep, something’s up there.”  

Roy got some of the larger pieces out carefully with tweezers. I went upstairs to get the baby saline spray… Oohhh, Dean loved that.

*Cough, Cough* “Yucky!  Mama!” Dean is sputtering, and there is a lovely trail of watery brown stuff trickling out of his nose. We wipe him up and give him another squirt or two.

A few minutes later, Joe came home.

Dean ran up to him.

“Hey, Dean.  How’s it going?” Joe asked him.

“I have a cookie in my nose.” Was Dean’s answer.

Joe looked at me, and I nodded my head.

“Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know!” And off Dean went.

And then Addi came home.  Again, Dean ran up to him.

“Hi, Dean!  How are you?”  Addi asked.

“I put a cookie in my nose.” Was again Dean’s answer.

Addi laughed.

I shook my head… never a dull moment in this house! 

I think I’ve been a bit selfish with Dean.  He’s my baby, my youngest, and I decided not to send him to PK-3 this year.  We do play games at home that help with counting and colors.  They teach him to take turns and even be a gracious winner and loser.  When we go to the store, we count items as we put them in the cart, etc.  Even some of this little shows teach him more than Roy and I would have imagined.  And because of this, I decided to enjoy one more year at home with my baby.

But, school for all the boys is hitting me in the face.  As Corey is graduating from high school, Dean is entering PK-4.  Dean’s emergency contact is his oldest brother, and Joe and Corey are on the list of approved people that can pick him up from school.  It’s somewhat surreal for me to fill out the paperwork like that.

Hayden did two years of preschool at one of the local private schools, and we were not happy.  I realize that much of preschool is socialization. However, I think there should be a bit more to it than that.  Colors, letters, cutting… something.  Hayden didn’t get much of that at all, and to make matters worse, during conference his teacher said one reason they don’t do that is because she isn’t a big fan of teaching kids that young certain things.  Umm… than why are you a preschool teacher?  So, after that, we decided Dean wouldn’t be going to that school.

Our local high school has a wonderful program, but because it is part of the high school curriculum, it receives state funds and is VERY reasonably priced.  (I think last year tuition for three day a week preschool was $375 dollars for the whole YEAR) Getting in is crazy.  I put Dean on the wait list about 15 months ago, and in August of 2011 he was still number 6.  So, that probably wasn’t going to happen.

We also looked at another private school, and though I liked the vibe there, we eventually settled on a local Christian School.  The one thing about the school I found a tad different is even the preschoolers wear uniforms.  On the other hand, that will make my life easier in the morning!  The administrator is a very nice gentleman with five kids of his own, though his are younger than ours.  At the open house we attended, everyone was so warm and welcoming, and we were happy to see that there is an actual curriculum for the preschoolers, as opposed to “We’ll try to get to letters, numbers, and colors if we can.”  The next day Roy and I talked about it and decided that if Dean was going to preschool, we were both on the same page - we were going to go with the Christian School.

I believe religion is a very private thing.  I don’t really talk about it here, or with friends.  Rather I just say that we believe in live and let live.  I think being a good person, having a strong set of ethics and values is what makes you a worthy person, not how often you go to church.  That being said, I have nothing against organized religion and would like our boys to be exposed to many different belief sets.  

Once we decided where we wanted Dean to attend preschool, I moved fast.  I called the school and immediately scheduled an interview which held Dean’s spot until we came in.  Yesterday was our interview.

I wasn’t sure what to expect.  I was worried that we would be asked about our religious beliefs, church, etc.  But when we went, it was Dean that was on trial.

“Hi, Dean. How are you?”  The school administrator asked my little boy…

To his credit, Dean did reach out and shake his hand, but he didn’t say anything.

We followed him to his office, where he asked Dean a few questions.

“Dean,” he began. “If an airplane is fast, a turtle is…”

Dean turned to Roy and searched his face for the answer.

I looked down and smiled. I knew that Dean knew the answer. He’s just shy.

“Slow…” You could barely hear him, but Dean answered.

“Good job!” The administrator was sincere with his praise, and I think that gave Dean a little bit of confidence.

“If fire is hot, snow is…”

“Cold.” He was still talking very quietly, but the answers came a little more readily now.

He asked Dean his colors, and whether he could count to five.

“So, Dean where does meat come from?”

WHOA… what?  That’s a tough one.  I was caught off guard, before he clarified by asking “where Mommy gets it.” Dean knew this one.

“The store…” Walmart and Target are Dean’s favorite places in the whole world!

Dean was asked to trace a square, and to draw a little stick person. And the final question…

“Dean, would you like to go to our school?”

Dean smiled up at me, and said yes.

And that was it!  Easy as pie!  We paid the registration and supply fee, and Dean now has a preschool for next year.  Roy left the class up to me - 3 days or 5 days.  I chose not to overwhelm him and signed him up for three days right now. The administrator did say we could discuss changing it at some point during the year. We’ll see about that.

Now, if Dean could only settle on a backpack… luckily I have a few months to get him to settle on one!

It started this morning when I went to get Hayden up for school.  Dean popped up in his bed, though not as quickly as he usually does.

“Hi, Baby!”  I went to pick him up as he always likes to cuddle first thing in the morning.

“Hi, Mama.”  He said in this voice.  You know the one your kids use when they aren’t feeling well.  And I just knew something was up.  Ok, no problem, it’s what we do, right?

So I picked Dean up and held him to my chest, and he snuggled in.  I woke Hayden up, hoping he was ok.  Did I not cook the chicken right last night?  Lord, are the older boys ok?

“Hey Mama! I’m up.”  Whew… Hayden seemed ok.  He went downstairs, and I carried Dean into their closet to get Hayden’s clothes for school.

I assumed Addi was fine, as he got the bus just fine this morning just like he always does - with a smile on his face.

“You guys ok?” I asked Corey and Joe who were in the kitchen as I carried Dean down the stairs.

“Yep, I’m fine.  Why?” Corey answered.

Joe just nodded and waited for my answer.

“Maybe Dean just has a little flu bug.  It’s fine.  Get ready for school.” The boys finished getting their lunch and off they went.

Hayden ate, and I got him dressed.  We usually go outside to wait for the bus around 7:40, and the bus gets there a few minutes later.  

7:39…

“Eww… Mommy!  I think Dean is gonna be sick.” Hayden tells me.  I turn around and see Dean sitting up and gagging.  I run to him like I always do, and hold my hands under his mouth.  Gross, I know… but I panic for a moment.  I see one of their little toys buckets right there on the ground and grab it.  I help him hold his head over it and rub his back.

“Gross!  I’m never using that one again.” Hayden tells me… probably a good idea!

7:41…

“Shoot, Hayden run and tell Daddy Dean’s sick.  We got to get you on the bus.”  

Off Hayden ran, but Dean seemed to settle down, so I cleaned him up quickly, tucked him back in on the couch, and bundled Hayden up. 

“Mommy will be right on the porch, ok?  Got to help Hayden.”

“Ok, mama.  Love you.”  My sweet little boy.

I went outside with Hayden, and poked my head in every 10 seconds to make sure Dean was ok.  The bus rolled up, Hayden gave me a kiss, and ran to jump on. And I went back inside.

I know kids get sick… it’s just part of life.  But all little kids have that voice… it sounds so weak and sad.  Dean rarely complains when he isn’t feeling well, which makes it even sadder to us.

“Mama, I want you to hold me.” He told me and crawled into my lap a little bit ago.  He snuggled his head on my chest and just rubbed my hand as I held him.  And then he got sick again, our poor baby!

So, we cleaned him up and settled him back into his little pallet on the floor next to the fireplace.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” I asked him.

He nodded, so I got up to see what we had.

“Kung Fu Panda?” I asked him.

He weakly shook his head, “No/ Mama, Cars 2.”

So, for now he is happily watching Cars 2 cuddled up in his blankets next to the fireplace.  His laughter is quiet, but I’m just happy to hear it.

Hayden and Dean have just figured out how to add things to their wish list on Amazon.  Dean still needs some work.  He and I put about 10 things in it, and when I looked the other day there were about 150.  I was surprised, so I went to check it out, and he had coffee makers, about 15 packs of coffee capsules… like I said, needs some work.

The other day Dean and Hayden asked if they could look at toys on Amazon.  I said fine and helped them get to the website.  This is what I overheard while cleaning the kitchen.

“Dean!” Hayden fussed at him, “Move over!”

“No.”

“Dean, move!”

“No, I’m the boss.” Dean says.

“You’re not the boss.” Hayden argues.

“Yes. I’m the boss.”

“No, you aren’t!” Hayden was getting annoyed at this point.

“Yes. I’m the boss.”

“You have to be super smart to be the boss.”

“Yes.”

“Ok, what’s 6 times 6?” Hayden asked.

I am not even sure if Hayden knows this just yet - he just started doing multiplication in second grade.

“4.” Dean answered confidently.

“WRONG! See, you’re not the boss.” Hayden sounded triumphant.

“Yes, I’m the boss.” 

Interesting conversation.

Dean has figured out how to add things on Amazon to my wish list.

I now wish for Power Rangers Cupcake Rings, Power Rangers books, and a Power Rangers Lunch box.

It’s cold here in VA today.  Around 30 degrees, which I can deal with, but the wind… sucks!  Dean and I ran to the store to get a few things, and as we are leaving, and I am buckling him up, he shrieks.

“What?” I look around, what happened to my baby, “What’s wrong?”

“He has a costume on, Momma!”

I follow Dean’s finger, and he is pointing at a gentleman who is gathering all the carts to bring them back in to the store.  He has on a big, furry hat - the kind with the ear flaps. And he is wearing a bright yellow safety vest.

“He has a costume on?” I wasn’t sure if I heard him right.

“Yes, Momma, a costume.” Dean is moving this way and that way to see the gentleman.

“Ohh… what kind of costume is it?” I asked and couldn’t wait to hear what his answer would be.

“He Buzz Lightyear, Momma!”

Addi is having a rough time in English this quarter.  Each quarter the students are supposed to pick a book to read from a list (a rather HUGE list, so everyone can find something that interests them). After they complete the book, they are to take a test in the library.  These are called AR tests, or Accelerated Reading tests.

Addi needs 20 points this quarter, only has seven, and the book he is reading is worth 12 TOPS.  The quarter ends on the 20th.  Roy and I have been pushing him to finish up his book.

I am standing at the table cutting out box tops when Addi comes over and stands by me.

I slide his book over to him, “Come on, Addi!  Read a few pages, a chapter, something.  Please take this seriously, as seriously as you do your dumb video games.”

Dean who is at the kitchen computer decides he needs to chime in, “Yeah, Addi, video games!”

“Hey, now!  You shush it.  You like video games too.” I replied to our little trash talker.

“No, I don’t… I like you!” Dean tells me.

My little charmer… he is gonna get all the girls! And maybe straight A’s if he chats up the teachers like that.

“Thank you, Mom!” Dean gave me a big hug this morning.

“Oh, baby!” I hugged him back, “Thank you for what?”

“For my birthday!” He tells me dancing around.

I know he can’t possibly understand that because of Roy and I, he is alive.  That he grew in me for nine months.  That we tried for a year to conceive him, and I had just about given up on the idea of getting pregnant again.  That for nine months I had crazy rashes, carpel tunnel syndrome, pain in my hips, and back pains that put labor to shame.  And he couldn’t possibly understand that all I went through, all Roy went through, was so very worth it.

Our little boy is four today.  Our last baby.  I won’t ever feel a baby kick inside me again. I won’t ever anticipate those first weeks at home with a newborn.  No more 3am feedings, diaper changes, diaper bags, strollers, or potty training - well, we are in the last stages of that final item.

Roy told Dean I would be super sad last night and a part of me is.  All my boys are growing up so fast.  But we are so proud of them.

Dean is going to go to preschool in a few months, another new chapter in his life.

Four years ago today we were in the hospital.  I think I was sitting on an exercise ball watching Mad TV.  Bouncing and trying to kick start labor.

My water broke around 3am.  At this point, Roy and I had been through this before and knew what to expect.  I got up and called to Roy from the bathroom.

“Roy!” He didn’t stir, “ROY!” 

“Huh, what?” He mumbled.

“Honey, get up.  My water just broke.”

He rolled over and sat up, “No!  I stayed up until 1 watching a movie.  Can we wait a few hours?”

He joked with me as he walked into the bathroom, squinting in the light.  I laughed and pulled on Roy’s shirt, the only thing I liked to wear at that point.

And then at 9 we are sitting in the hospital.  Roy is dozing in the chair, and I am bouncing on the ball I mentioned before.  Sure that at any moment it would be time to push.  I was wrong.

Dean was born around 5 that afternoon.  It was my fifth, dammit… I should have been the first to go.  Our little local hospital was busy that day - six mothers came in ALL after me, all delivered before me - including four first time mothers!  I thought for sure I would win that race.

But as rough as the pregnancy was, delivery was a breeze, and before we knew it, I was nursing, and trying to pace myself by not gorging on the meal they brought me.  I was STARVING at that point.

Dean was healthy, and Roy brought all the older boys to visit us in the hospital.  Hayden crawled into bed with Dean and I and curled up by my side.

“He’s so little Mommy.”  Hayden was enamored with the tiny baby at my breast.

And now four years later, he is still the adored youngest in our family.  His older brothers joke with each other that they are his favorite - it can get pretty competitive too.

Our baby is 4 years old today, our youngest baby, my last.  

Dean has a new song!

“Her hit the floor… Low, Low, Low, Low…”

Flo Rida has never sounded so cute!